


Family Above All

by BurnItAllDownDahling



Series: A Family Affair [19]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Anal Sex, Battle Sex, Blow Jobs, Erotic Poetry, Fluff and Smut, Fuck Or Die, Incest, M/M, Multi, Organ Meats, Polyamory, Rimming, silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-09-06
Packaged: 2020-10-10 05:15:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20522543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BurnItAllDownDahling/pseuds/BurnItAllDownDahling
Summary: A once-every-few-centuries astrological event that drives demons into a sexual frenzy is about to occur, and tag, Nero's it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In fulfillment of this prompt: "May I indulge you in a demon-mating-season-type fic? Like, poor Nero hasn’t experienced anything like this yet, it’s on a whole other level than what he’s used to feeling; even more than that time that time with Myst, he has such a raw need to fuck & be fucked, he’s half out of his mind, luckily, Dante & Vergil are well experienced when it comes to this time to this time of year~" 
> 
> Not so much a mating season as a once-every-seven-hundred-years event, nonny, but hopefully this will be close enough for government work. Note: contains no rape, just discussion of the implications of fuck or die.

It had already been the weirdest day. Dante had woken up in full combat mode, his body moving and his hand summoning his sword before he was conscious enough to know why. And once his head had cleared, he realized why: because the aura of Devil May Cry was a taut thing, the very air quivering with psychic pressure. It was nothing the average human would notice, but definitely a warn-off to every demon in a thousand-mile radius that this was an extremely bad neighborhood to visit, anytime in the next century or two. It felt, Dante thought once his mind had woken up a bit more, like the moment right before lightning strikes, when the body has begun to notice the charge in the air, but the mind hasn't yet caught on to its imminent doom. 

But it had only been Vergil, in a cold fury so deep that Dante had actually been kind of worried that he would snap and... well. Vergil broke worlds when he was feeling insecure. Dante really didn't want to see what he could do when he got truly angry.

And why was Vergil in such a snit? Because someone had stolen the Yamato.

And given that the Yamato was the bitchiest of the three blades made by their father, and couldn't be wielded by anybody except Sparda's kin, and _Dante_ sure hadn't taken the thing --

Yeah. So.

Fortunately -- maybe -- Dante had gotten a call then about a gigantic demon tearing up the place over in Bridgton. Vergil, his voice so brittle and monotone that listening to him talk had been like hearing the Yamato dragged over a chalkboard, had actually asked to handle the job. Needed to kill something, Dante guessed. So Dante had gladly given it up, and let out a breath of relief once Vergil left.

Calling Nero netted nothing. Calling Nero's friends got him chewed out by Nico for waking her up from a nap, and roped him into a surprisingly fraught conversation with Kyrie, who somehow sensed that something was wrong -- Jesus, Dante needed to ask Nero if she had any interrogation training -- and kept probing him as to the reason. He let out a breath of relief as soon as he made it off the phone. 

Then he leaned his hands against his desk, wondering why in hell Nero had betrayed his father, and trying to figure out if he had enough Qliphoth liqueur left to get drunk, because boy did he need that right now.

Except. Someone else was in Devil May Cry.

Dante went still, frowning. He heard only silence -- but Devil May Cry was his domain, and nothing happened here without his notice. Slipping out of his desk chair, he called his sword and then went ghosting through the corridors, every nerve taut, tracking that hint of a presence. They were very good, whoever they were. Just a whiff of disturbed air here, a fresh partial claw-mark here, the faintest creak of a rafter from somewhere over near the pool room. No scent, but some demons could suppress that at need. Was his intruder an assassin? Dante stopped at a juncture of corridors that should've made a fantastic ambush point, hoping to lure his enemy out. Nothing.

No. Something. His bedroom. Dante sprinted to the door of his room.

No one present -- but someone had been. Lying on one of the few uncluttered spots on Dante's floor, still bleeding, was an absolutely enormous lump of... liver? Yeah, he was pretty sure that was liver. It was big enough to be a whale's, but one whiff of the thing's blood told him the truth: it was from a demon. A large, powerful one, at least until somebody slaughtered it and left its organ meats all over Dante's damn house.

Vergil's room.

This time Dante actually shifted to demon form before he moved, to get there just that much faster. And this time, success. As he blasted through the door of the room he'd given Vergil -- neither of them slept in their rooms much because Nero's bed was the biggest, but DMC had plenty of space and he liked having Vergil nearby -- Dante snarled at the sight of a massive, inhuman shape hunkered over something on the floor. 

The Dante screamed in his hand, splitting apart as he powered up for battle --

\-- and stopped, staring. _"Nero?"_

Not Nero, precisely, but his demon: the ridiculously huge, blue-and-red, four-winged behemoth of his truest form. It hunched and froze, eyes huge, wings flattening to its sides as it radiated pure guilt.

"Beasssst, yes, hi," it said, in the closest thing to a small, sheepish voice that Dante had ever heard from any demon, let alone one that was thirty feet tall when it stood up. "Um. Hello." Its tail-tip swished a little, shoving Vergil's bed out of position. "Do not tell."

Dante coughed, because it was either that or burst out laughing. And Nero's demon _was_ still a demon lord, ridiculous or not; demon lords didn't handle being laughed at well. "Uh, yeah, so, if what you want me not to tell is that you stole the Yamato, I'm sorry to say that that ship has sailed."

The thing uttered a little horrified gasp. "Say was not me!"

"Yeah, no. I'm not gonna lie for you, k -- uh, big guy. I think you're gonna have to fess up and take your licks like a... demon lord."

The demon lord groaned softly, making the windows rattle in their frames, and then put its face down on the floor in abject misery. Dante went over to it and patted its massive shoulder, awkwardly. "Look, you just gotta tell me: why the hell did you do this? I can think of things that would piss Vergil off more, but not many. In fact, you're lucky he's -- "

Wait. A giant demon rampage, at just the moment when Vergil needed a comfort-murder. Dante whistled. "Ooh, buddy. That was you, too? You are gonna be in _so_ much trouble when he figures it out."

"Trouble," snarled Vergil from the doorway, making both of them jerk in surprise, "is _the most inadequate word possible_ for what's about to happen, Dante."

Nero's demon flinched and, impossibly, hunched even more, its pupils turned to saucers of terror with only the thinnest rim of yellow. It shifted a little, and Dante realized the idiot creature was actually trying to cower behind him. God, if he managed to make it through this day without laughing his ass off, he was going to earn all the good uncle points for like a decade.

The look on Vergil's face wiped away most of Dante's amusement, however, as he stalked forward. He stopped, and his gaze shifted for a moment to Dante. "Get out of my way, Brother."

Dante took a deep breath, but didn't move. "If you're going to fight, take it to the demon world, or a football field or something. I'm still paying off renovations from the last time he transformed in here." Granted, Nero was helping with those payments himself. And at least Nero's demon had been more careful this time as it snuck around Devil May Cry.

"Whether we fight depends on this creature, Brother." His eyes shifted back to Nero's demon, and -- yeah, Dante could feel Vergil's demon roiling just under his surface. If he transformed, he would be that much closer to losing all control. And Dante was pretty sure that Vergil had never lost control of his demon before. That was how pissed he was.

"Yeah?" Dante glanced back at Nero's demon. God, the poor thing was actually shaking. And what was that giant lump of meat it had deposited in Vergil's room? Vergil was probably going to rip its wings off just for making a mess. "So, what's it got to do to get off your shitlist?"

"First," Vergil said, holding out a hand to the demon, "give me back my sword. _Now_."

Nero's demon sat up a little -- cracking the ceiling; Dante sighed inwardly -- and untied Yamato in its sheath from where it hung between the demon's wings. The sword and scabbard had become massive, adjusting themselves to Nero's demonform size, but as the creature hesitantly offered the sword to Vergil, Yamato shrank back to its usual proportions. "Sssorry," Nero's demon said in a very small voice.

Vergil plucked the sword from the massive palm and unsheathed it. Nero's demon flinched again, but Vergil only sighted along the blade, his eyes narrowing.

"Apology _not_ accepted, yet. You've fought something with adamantine scales. The pattern in the steel has been marred ever-so-slightly."

"Yesss," admitted the demon.

"What?"

It shrugged, knocking over a wardrobe. "Big sssnake. In big water." It glanced northward, then uttered a contemptuous snort that sounded just like Vergil at his worst, though Dante did not doom them both by saying so. "Ssstupid name."

Vergil went very still. "You killed Jormungandr?"

Dante blinked. "Wait, that's real? _The Midgard Serpent?_"

"It's just a demon," Vergil said. He sounded less angry, all of a sudden, and more distracted. "One that's lived in this realm for, hmm, four thousand years or so? It likes water, and there are no oceans in the underworld." Without looking, he flipped Yamato and sheathed it. "Father always meant to get around to killing it. That breed of serpents has a nasty habit of growing around continental plates, then cracking them in half by accident. He was worried that trying to kill it would set off a global catastrophe of tsunami, however."

Nero's demon shrugged again. "Ssslow. Sssleepy. Only need Yamato because sssscales hard." It sighed sadly. "Boring fight."

"Wait a minute, wait a minute." Now Dante turned to Nero's demon, pinching the bridge of his nose. "So, okay, let me see if I've got this. You steal the Yamato." Vergil utters a soft growl, which Dante ignores. "Then you manufacture a distraction over in Bridgton that will lure at least one of us out of Devil May Cry, to make it easier for you to sneak in and return the Yamato, plus... this." He gestures at the lump of meat. It's bigger than Vergil's bed. "Which is, what, a Jormungandr nugget?"

"Is heart," Nero's demon said. It slinked around Dante then, uttering a little pleading croon at Vergil. "Just one. Had many. But like heart, yes? You like. Good. Rich. Blood still warm."

Vergil's glare was so withering that the demon flinched back. Dante took pity on the poor thing. "You _do_ like hearts," he said to Vergil, who threw the same look at Dante. Dante was used to it, though. "Remember that time you stabbed me for the chicken heart at dinner, once, when we were kids? And it turned out to be a gizzard, ha."

Nero's demon nodded eagerly. "King like heart. Beasst like liver." It bumped its giant head against Dante, rubbing with massive affection. "Is good food. Fresh. Much power."

Vergil took a slow, measured breath, which Dante thought was a good sign. The irritation in his tone was all human now; his demon had probably stomped back off into his psyche in disgust. "You _stole_ my _sword_," he said very carefully, "so that you could bring us demon meat."

Nero's demon blinked, looking from one to the other of them, radiating such puzzlement that Dante realized it honestly didn't understand why _they_ didn't understand. "Is _courtship_," it said at last. And then the thing actually looked bashful, ducking its head to pluck at a floorboard with one four-foot claw. Dante sighed. He could fix the floorboards himself, probably.

"Big guy." Dante patted its shoulder again. "You _got_ us, remember? There's no need for -- "

"Dante." He turned to Vergil, and raised his eyebrows at the sudden stillness of Vergil's expression. Weird. "You still have Father's astrological calendar, don't you? The one from the underworld."

"Yeah? Why?"

"Please go and fetch it. Quickly." Then he gave Nero's demon a cold eye. Nero's demon immediately hunched again, watching him fearfully. "We'll continue our discussion, in the meantime."

Dante sighed, but turned to go, patting Vergil on the shoulder as he did. Vergil ignored this. He felt a little sorry for Nero's demon, but really, if the kid wasn't going to do a better job of controlling the thing, he was going to have to expect it to get up to mischief.

He reflected on this as he rummaged through cabinets in the library, looking for the ancient scroll. (It was blue, wasn't it? Or maybe black. Beige?) He honestly hadn't figured out Nero's demon, yet. The thing could be vicious as hell; he'd seen it in battle a few times now. As disturbing as it could be to see an evil grin on his otherwise kind-natured nephew's face, it got a lot eviler when it was lined with sharp teeth and set in a mouth big enough to snack on cars. But although Nero had finally merged enough with his inner demon to summon its full power at will, there had been more than a few times when Dante was pretty sure that the demon was in total control, with no hint of Nero at the wheel. Which should've made it a rampaging monster -- but instead, outside of battle, it just seemed sort of hapless and eager to please. Which _was_ very Nero. Just... weird.

By the time he'd made it back to his room with the scroll, Vergil had moved to sit on the edge of his bed, meditating on Yamato. And now Nero, instead of his demon, sat on the floor where the demon had cowered. The kid looked mostly intact, though he had a hell of a shiner on his left eye, and he was grimacing, with one hand over his midriff. No property damage, though, so Dante would take it.

"Lucky," Dante said to Nero, amused. "He's not much for hitting. Usually prefers chopping or stabbing."

"I haven't ruled those out," Vergil said, though his eyes were closed and his manner calm at last.

"Yeah, well, it fucking _hurt_," Nero complained, sitting up so he could lean against the wall. "Seriously? What did I do to deserve that?"

Dante handed the scroll to Vergil without looking, and then went to crouch beside Nero, taking his chin and turning it aside so he could examine the marks. Not even as bad as he got in sparring, and already halfway healed despite Nero's whining. Still. "You don't know?" He frowned. "You weren't even back-seating while the demon had control?"

"Back-seating? No." Nero sighed irritably. "Why would I do that?"

Jesus Christ. Dante found himself growing angry, too. "Because it's a _demon_, idiot. You can't just let it run wild, it'll kill somebody!"

"It's not gonna kill anybody." Now Nero glowered at him. "We have an... understanding. Anyway, it's not that kind of demon. It doesn't want to kill anything but other demons, and it's not interested in, like, mayhem. Mostly, it just obsesses over you two." He grimaced a little, though he was blushing at the same time. "I get why you're worried. Seriously. I've seen _your_ demon. But my demon is, I don't know, nice."

Oh, God. He couldn't be that naive. _"Demons aren't nice."_

Nero set his jaw. "_Sparda_ was."

And that made Dante rock back on his heels. Because -- shit. Thankfully, Vergil glanced away from the scroll and speared Nero with a glance.

"Our father wasn't _nice_," Vergil snapped. "In case you have forgotten, he betrayed his lord, slaughtered and starved millions of his own people, and sacrificed humans to create the seal between the worlds. That's what demons _do_. He was ethical. Not _nice_."

"I know that." It was Nero's turn to glare, and Dante's turn to wonder -- again -- if he was going to have to step between father and son. Then Nero broke it off, as he always did when it wasn't serious, sighing and looking away. That was good; Dante saw Vergil's shoulders relax fractionally. Either the kid was aware of how on-edge Vergil was, or some instinct of his had correctly warned him that Vergil needed his deference right now. Dante hadn't missed Vergil's mention of Sparda's betrayal, counted right there alongside mass starvation and human sacrifice. Among demons -- and asshole half-demons -- the betrayal was the worst of those.

Nero sighed and rubbed the back of his head. "But that's what I'm saying. Not that my demon is _ethical_, but that its ethics are all wrapped up in two things: killing demons, and keeping you two happy. It's miserable right now, whining in the back of my head, because it knows it fucked up this time. So as long as neither of you suddenly decides to start another apocalypse, my demon's gonna be on the side of the angels. Okay?"

Dante pointedly did not look at Vergil, who after all had started the apocalypse twice. "You still have to be careful. It doesn't think like you, Nero. What if it decides to please one of us _by_ starting the apocalypse, itself?"

"Well, then it'll have to answer to me." Nero bared his teeth for just a moment. Dante didn't think he was aware of doing it. "Look. I already said I was sorry. You're right, I shouldn't have just let it loose like that. I promise I'll keep a better handle on it from here on, okay?" He sighed. "I just don't know what the hell's gotten into it. It told me it needed to bring you a gift, and it got pissy about me watching because I'm apparently bad at keeping secrets."

"Yes," Vergil said. He'd opened the scroll in the meantime, and now Dante saw his eyes scanning the document rapidly. Another person might not have been able to read the deepening tension in his posture, but to Dante it might as well have been a shout. "Well. I understand its reasoning better, now. Not enough to forgive it." He paused to throw a cold look at Nero, and Nero winced. "But I am now at least satisfied by the explanation."

"What is it?" Dante went to look over Vergil's shoulder. The scroll's charts and text were hand-drawn in ancient demonic script, and he couldn't make heads or tails of it without a closer study. "I didn't think there was anything on that thing except underworld holidays, shit like that."

"Not holidays. Moments of astronomical note in the human realm, which have resonance in the demon realm. Such as the conjunction of five planets and the moon that's about to occur tomorrow, for the first time in roughly seven hundred years. The demons call it the Fountain Moon." He snapped the scroll shut and handed it to Dante, who unrolled it hoping that Vergil had closed it in the same place. No dice. Asshole.

"Yeah? Okay." Nero got to his feet, brushing off his pants and rolling his neck, completely healed. "I'll be sure to, uh, wish any demons I meet 'Happy Fountain Moon,' if I see them when I'm out."

"That's not going to be possible," Vergil said, standing as well. Dante tensed a little; he'd put a hand on Yamato's hilt. "Because you're not going anywhere, and if another demon comes anywhere near you, I'm going to slice it to ribbons."

Okay, what. Nero stared at him. Dante did too. "Verg? Something to share?"

Vergil took a deep breath and turned to pace, in slow measured steps. "Demonic power is derived from arcane conjunctions," he proclaimed. "Human blood, which marries souls to flesh. The Qliphoth, which aligns the two realms -- traumatically, granted -- and bears fruit that draws power from that, as well as blood."

Dante hated it when Vergil got lecturey. "Yeah, we noticed," he said. "So what's got you upset?"

"Upset?" Vergil paused in his pacing. And then, very softly, he laughed. "Oh, no, Brother. I'm _excited_. During the Fountain Moon, all the power of that celestial conjunction pours into the bodies of a select few demons. They gain great additional power... and these chosen few may share this power by letting it pour through their bodies, like a fountain. In fact, they _must_ share, or it will overwhelm and destroy them. And while this power flows through them, they become a beacon calling to every demon for miles and worlds around, to partake of their bounty." He turned to smile at Nero.

Nero froze, his eyes widening. "But that -- " He looked from one to the other of them. "What the fuck are you saying?"

Vergil turned to him and smiled in an indisputably smug way -- which made Nero bristle even more. Kid must really be freaked out. "But this is what your demon tried to prepare you for, Nero, in its foolish way. I imagine you ate rather a lot of Jormungandr yourself."

Nero flinched. "Ugh," he said, absently patting his stomach.

"Snake tastes like chicken," Dante said, to reassure him. 

"_Demon_ snake."

"Which tastes like demon chicken."

Vergil ignored them and kept pontificating. "In a few hours, you will be possessed of the desperate, overwhelming need to fuck any demon who dares approach you -- and in so doing, you will pour power into them. Weaker demons will die of it, but more powerful ones should gain a significant, permanent boost to their strength. And if you don't shed enough of the power in this manner by the time the conjunction ends, _you'll_ die." He began to stalk toward Nero slowly, plainly enjoying the kid's agitation, because Vergil was a petty bitch sometimes and he was probably still mad about the whole Yamato business. "Your demon gave us food in hopes of keeping us strong, and as an incentive for us to protect you -- and keep you for ourselves. And, oh, we _shall_."

Dante frowned, going over to them because sometimes Vergil pushed things too far, and it was obvious that Nero was scared, damn it. For good reason, it sounded like. "Verg. Stop being a dick for half a minute, okay? You said he's gonna have to do this, and we're going to have to fuck him, _in the middle of a demon siege_, or he'll _die_. Are you serious?"

Vergil smirked. "What's wrong, Brother? Worried that you won't be able to fight off a few thousand sex-crazed demons while we take turns keeping him from burning up beneath the onslaught of power?

Nero's eyes got wide. "Are you fucking _kidding_ me?!"

Dante stared at both of them, then turned, looking around at Devil May Cry's walls. _Fragile, wooden_ walls. "Vergil, this isn't gonna work. Even a weak demon could tear through this shit. We need somewhere defensible."

That, at least, made Vergil's smile fade a little as he, too, looked around. "Hmm. You have a point."

"And a demon siege?" Nero looked like he was going to lose it and start yelling any minute. "Are you both fucking high? We're in the middle of a city! What about the Nameless, you could raise it again, that scared all the humans away last time -- "

"It contains a portal to the demon world," Vergil said, frowning now. "Not much of a defense if enemies can walk into your bedroom."

"Then maybe we need more than just the two of us," Dante snapped. "We'll go somewhere isolated, ask Trish and whatsisname, Zumba the demon king, to watch our backs -- "

"Then we'd have to share Nero with them, Brother. That's unacceptable." Vergil turned a look on him that might have passed for mere arrogance, but Dante's belly tightened, because it suddenly hit Dante that this whole thing was a way for Vergil to get more power. What if he...?  


Vergil's nostrils twitched, and he turned a little away from Nero face Dante. "No, Brother. We're stronger together, aren't we? And Nero is _ours_. Yes?"

Dante stared back at him, relieved, stunned, overjoyed. It had only taken, what, most of their lives, for Vergil to say it out loud? It was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard. The most beautiful thing, period.

"Yeah," he said, not even trying to pretend that he didn't love Vergil, now and forever. "Shit. Yeah. Okay."

"I'm not some fucking damsel in distress," Nero snapped. But he looked relieved when Dante stepped closer. The three of them, together, against the two worlds. Yeah. Nero shook his legs a little, bouncing on his toes, feeling it too. "Somebody gets grabby, I'll kill them myself."

"You won't," Vergil said. He'd relented on being an ass to Nero, which was a relief; now he sighed. "In fact, we might have to fight you, too. If the stories I've heard are true, you'll be... demanding."

"I wouldn't -- " Nero frowned, looking from Vergil to Dante and back. He blushed violently, but then blurted, "But I don't want anybody but you two!"

Dante growled, pleased. Vergil grabbed Nero at once by the back of the neck, hauling him closer to them pressing his face into Nero's hair. His gaze, hot and blue, found and held Dante's as he did this. "No one will have you but us. That we swear."

_Yes_, Dante's demon thought, an instant before Dante nodded firmly. Yeah. He put a hand on Nero's back, and felt the kid relax a little more. That was good. Poor kid; all this must be terrifying for him, though he was hiding it well enough. Well, Dante was going to keep him safe. From himself, even. Because he was theirs, and they were each other's.

Something about the resolve in Dante's expression must have triggered a memory for Vergil, because he inhaled a little, straightening. "Mallet Island."

Dante flinched. Nero frowned. "I've heard of that," he said, slowly. "Where Dante beat Mundus, right? Isn't there a portal there, too?"

"Closed," Dante said, but he was watching Vergil. Dante hadn't defeated only Mundus there. "Nothing short of Mundy himself could force that thing back open. Any demons want to hit us there, they'll have to fly or take a boat."

"Which means only a few hundred demons to slaughter, instead of thousands. Easily managed." Vergil shrugged. He seemed all right, but then he would. "It seems the only option. Shall we go?" He stepped back and shimmered into his lower-tier form. Conserving energy, Dante suspected. Sounded like they were going to need it.

"What?" Nero shook his head, still looking like he didn't quite believe what was happening. "Now?"

"Gotta scope a good defensible point that's also good for, uh, business," Dante said. Although... he'd thought of one already. He glanced at Vergil again and found his brother watching him, gaze dragon-cool and sword-sharp. Yeah. Verg had always been good at reading Dante. But this was going to be hard on all of them.

"Fuck," Nero said, sighing and taking his smaller demonshape too. The spectral claw-hands on his shoulders flexed and twitched with nerves. "Fuck. Yeah, okay."

"A moment." Vergil stalked over and latched one clawed hand onto the bloody Jormungandr heart. He eyed Dante.

_We will need the strength_, Dante's demon growled.

_Wow, full sentences today, you really are all-in, huh_, Dante snarked back. But the demon was right. 

"Wow, sex _and_ snacks?" Dante grinned at them both. "Your demon's just so thoughtful, kid. Hang on while I go grab my snake liver, then let's go start the party."


	2. Chapter 2

Mallet Island.

Nero had heard of the place from quite a few of his fellow devil hunters -- not Dante, but Trish, and others who'd tried to breach the place's secrets in the years before and since Mundus's resurrection. You could always tell which hunters had gone there _before_ Mundus, because they were the ones who went pale or grew haunted looks, or shook quietly as they told their tales. They would glance at lost limbs or old scars, and wince as if remembering the wounding. They would speak of teammates who'd gone to the island with them, but hadn't made it home.

Made sense. A major demon portal meant major demons, so frankly Nero thought those hunters really should have known better. These days, however, the island was mostly trouble-free. Some of the lesser demons that slipped through open portals elsewhere made their way to Mallet, drawn toward the lingering miasma from the portal, though the residue wasn't enough to sustain any of the greater demons. Because of this, Nero had heard that it made a good training ground for new devil hunters. (Though he'd never gone there himself. Plenty of lesser demons to train against in Fortuna, with its own major portal.)

Still. As they flew low over the ocean, stretching wings for their fastest glide through the occasional sea sprays, Nero glanced at his father and uncle. There was something off about both of them -- something other than what ailed Nero, which was unease about the forthcoming demonic festival of what-the-fuck. Something about Mallet Island itself.

_Hates me_, wailed his demon, as they finally reached the island and began to bank for landing. The demon pushed Nero's gaze toward Vergil, and he felt its despair. _Hates me, never forgive, did not mean, should not have!_

"Quiet," Nero murmured, irritable. It had been whining since the mainland. "You said you were sorry. Now you'll just have to wait for him to cool off."

_Did not accept apology! Will leave us alone, let us die!_

It was hard to be angry with the thing, in spite of the scratch of its fear against Nero's already-on-edge nerves. It thought of Vergil as his demon, which probably wasn't far off, and they all knew that Vergil's demon was a relentless, ruthless, unforgiving son of a bitch. Still, Nero felt certain that there where it came to family, Vergil's human inclinations took precedence. Vergil liked having a son. He liked having his brother back, and Nero had given him that. He loved both of them, though he had never said such in so many words. He'd said other words. It was enough.

At the top of the island -- a massive, inhospitable plateau jutting straight from the sea, with no softening beach or palm tree forest -- was a sprawling castle. Vergil took the lead here, angling them toward one of the taller spires, built right up against a curving cliff face. That was good. If their main attackers would come by air, and the interior door could be barred in some way, it meant they only had to defend one choke point. 

There was a balcony jutting from the tower's uppermost tier. As Vergil circled, inspecting the site from the air, Dante landed and pushed open the double doors, then paused for an instant. He turned and focused on Vergil, with a blankness of expression that made Nero tense. When the jokes and smiles weren't enough to play off whatever he was feeling anymore, Dante put on this face like a mask. He'd worn it throughout the Qliphoth affair, as he prepared to kill his brother for the second time, and as he'd apparently fretted that his brother and nephew might inadvertently kill each other. He wore it every time something was about to hurt, Nero had noticed.

The room beyond the balcony doors was an enormous bedchamber, complete with a massive, ancient four-poster bed and opulent furnishings. A mirror twice Nero's height stood at an awkward angle nearby. Nero was fucking his only family and had discovered a distinctly kinky taste for giving and receiving pain over the past few years, but he kinda drew the line at mirrors. They'd freaked him out ever since he'd learned how easily they could be made into underworld portals. And this one... something about it... was it a portal, too? There was something wrong about it, if so. A crawling sensation, arcane energies curdling, magic corrupted.

He was still trying to figure out the elusive sensation when Dante suddenly drew his sword and smashed the thing into pieces.

"Uh," Nero said.

"Unnecessary, Brother," Vergil said, reclaiming his human shape as he strode past them. He ignored the shattered mirror, focusing instead on the bed. Its pillows and hangings were dusty, but not dry-rotted or otherwise gross. Vergil pulled off the topmost bedding, tossed aside the dustiest pillows, nodded in satisfaction, then continued, "The pocket dimension that the mirror once contained is long defunct."

"Not why I did it," Dante snapped, then he turned away and went to stand at the balcony door.

Okay. Something had happened, here. "You've both been to this room, before?" Nero asked.

"Yes." Then Vergil's gaze met his, just for an instant. There was nothing overt in it, but Nero fell into a startled silence anyway. Vergil had just warned him not to piss off Dante. Okay, that was new.

Then Vergil told Nero, "Get undressed and lie down," which pretty thoroughly distracted him from the whole unspoken family drama.

Nero tugged off his coat slowly, trying not to show his unease. Vergil, perhaps out of kindness but more likely because he just didn't care, turned away to toss the remaining lump of Jormungandr heart into a corner. Most of it was gone, and all of Dante's liver had vanished; they'd eaten on the wing. Probably easier to chow down on that much meat in demon form, with the teeth and all, anyway.

"I'm going to find a way to block off any corridors within this tower that lead to the room," Vergil said. "That way, we'll only need to worry about guarding the balcony."

"You do that," Dante said, not looking at him. Vergil lifted an eyebrow, regarded him for a long moment... and then turned and left the room without another word.

Leaving Nero effectively alone for the first time since this whole business had begun. Dante was in his own private world of melancholy. Nero's demon was in a funk. So once his coat was off, Nero sat down on the edge of the bed and tried to process why everything about this felt so wrong.

He'd come to no particular conclusions by the time Dante sighed and turned, eying him for a moment. "Gonna be hard for you to do this with your pants on, kid."

"Oh. Yeah." Nero got up, tugging on his belt, and apparently he was so sluggish about it that Dante snorted and came over to help. "Shit. Thanks." Dante shrugged. He smelled of stress, too. This made Nero blurt, "What happened in this room?"

Dante's hands slowed in the middle of undoing his pants. He did not meet Nero's eyes. "Years after Vergil fell, I found out he was still alive -- here. In this room. And for the first time, I saw what Mundus had done to him."

Oh. Shit. Nelo Angelo. Then Dante was reliving everything he'd felt back then -- shock, certainly, but fury at Mundus, fury at himself, and possibly the first sickly taste of the guilt he'd carried ever since, for letting Vergil suffer.

Dante sighed. "Don't know what I'm so twisted up about. Vergil's the one who went through the worst. I just..." He shook his head. On impulse, Nero reached up to stroke his hair. Dante always liked being touched. Too many years without. He relaxed a little beneath the touch, and sighed. "Shit. Sorry, kid. And here I am adding to your burdens. This fucking island brings out the worst in me."

Nero shrugged, although... yeah. "I don't know why I'm so twisted up either," he said slowly, trying to process out loud. "We've been together before, all three of us, lots of times. Sometimes even in demon form." 

He had learned both of them, his gorgeous, unbelievably powerful, often-incomprehensible lovers, through such blistering lovemaking sessions. Dante, the laughing one, whose smiles hid so much. Cold, masterful Vergil, who needed control the way Nero needed food and water. This was how Nero knew that right now, Dante was the one who needed comfort most. Vergil would need it later. Here, in the place of his pain, he would guard himself, and only let that guard down elsewhere, when he felt safe again. Dante had no such safe zones. He felt everything, everywhere.

So Nero moved his hands down and massaged Dante's tight shoulders for a moment, and when Dante did not pull away, Nero stepped closer. Dante stopped bothering with his pants, and -- ah, yeah. He leaned on Nero, comforting solidity trusting Nero's strength, and rested his head on Nero's shoulder. 

"Not feeling the whole demon aphrodisiac thing, I take it?" he said, from Nero's shoulder. Talking about the present to push away feelings of the past.

"Yeah, not really."

"You've been freaked out since Vergil told you about this. But like you said, it's nothing more than we've gotten up to before."

Nero shook his head, slowly. "It feels like more than that," he said. "It feels like... shit. Like I'm waiting to be, I don't know, _raped_. Something's going to take over my mind and make me do things I don't want to do. I don't know what else to call that."

Dante lifted his head, frowning. "Well, shit. When you put it like that, no wonder you don't want to take your pants off." He considered for a moment. "Want me to get naked, too?"

"What?" It was a weird, but quintessentially Dante solution to a problem, though. If he couldn't beat it, join it. "I guess? Couldn't hurt."

So Dante stepped back to shuck off his coat, too. Watching him, Nero found himself blushing a little. He'd always envied the breadth of Dante's shoulders, which the coat usually hid. And the width of his chest, as Dante undid the buttons of his shirt now.

"Hey, now," Dante said, grinning suddenly. "That's nice. The way you're looking at me, I mean."

"Oh." Nero blushed, belatedly realizing he had been staring. But he couldn't help grinning. "I mean. You _are_ kind of stripping for me."

Dante laughed. "Oh, that wasn't stripping for you." All at once his whole manner changed. He stood hipshot, head tilted back a little, his gaze suddenly hot and come-hither. His fingers slowed on his buttons, teasing, and as he undid each, he peeled the loosened cloth aside slowly, making Nero wait for every inch of bared flesh. While he worked on the last button, one of his hands slid down, slow, so slow, until it splayed with only the barest hint of suggestion over the front of his pants. Nero couldn't see his dick, but fuck, he didn't have to.

"_This_ is stripping for you," Dante said.

"Fuck," Nero said. He was actually salivating. "Jesus, Dante. I _wish_ I could turn it on like that."

"Spent a while working at a strip joint when I was about your age." Dante shrugged. "I hired on as the bouncer, but they got so many requests for me that I tried the stage, too. Made a lot more money then. That's how I got the down payment for DMC." Then he stepped forward, tossing his shirt aside, and Nero very definitely wanted to take off his pants at the look on Dante's face. "But that was just performance. You? You get the real thing, kid. Whenever you want."

And what could Nero do but respond to such a blatant invitation?

Then they were on the bed, and Dante was in his mouth, and pants weren't a problem anymore. Nero fucking loved it. Dante didn't often take the lead in sex, and though that had changed somewhat -- aggressively -- since his demon had assumed a proprietary interest in Nero's ass, Dante's more sensual moods were always a thing to be savored. When he moved to bite Nero's throat, Nero groaned and practically threw his head back. "Always wanted you," Dante growled, his teeth pricking Nero's skin. "God, Nero."

The words percolated slowly through the lust. "Wait, always? Really?"

"Yeah." Dante's tongue soothed away the sting, and Nero grabbed Dante's hand and pulled it to his cock, because he was going to die if somebody didn't touch him there. Dante chuckled but obliged, hand expertly pumping while Nero murmured _fuuuuck_ and several other sweet nothings. "Just a kid, but fucking gorgeous. And all that attitude? Hell yeah. When I didn't want to pop you in the mouth, I wanted to fuck you in it. Or taste you." He bit Nero again, hard enough to bleed him this time, and then lapped at the wound so avidly that Nero grabbed his head and hissed. "So much better than the wet dreams."

Nero's head spun. "Dante. Can we -- Before this moon thing happens -- "

Dante's eyes were a gleam in the dark. "Want a little _Yes, please_ before we're stuck with _Can't help myself_? Oh, anytime, kid."

Dante bent, and things got good, and that was when Nero noticed Vergil, standing against the closed door of the room. His coat was off, but otherwise he was dressed, muscular arms folded, palpably standing guard. He watched them, though, and nodded when Nero saw him. Then Dante, who had already pushed Nero's legs back to lick along Nero's cleft like he was made of candy, stuck his tongue into Nero's ass, and Nero lost all awareness of anything outside of that.

He'd forgotten about the Fountain Moon, and didn't notice when things changed. It came on suddenly. One moment he was writhing and wishing Dante would stop eating him out and just fuck him already, and the next moment he thought FUCK ME RIGHT NOW and lifted his head. "_Dante._"

Dante slurped free and examined him, thoughtfully. "You know you're glowing?"

Nero glanced at himself. Yeah, he was, his skin weirdly luminous, like he'd swallowed the moon. Whatever. "Quit _fucking with_ me and _fuck_ me! How long are you going to make me wait!"

Dante laughed. "Right. Here we go, then."

He dropped Nero's hips into his lap and slid inside him and then paused for a moment, his eyes widening as his own skin lit up, the moon through a gentle amber filter. "Fuck," he gasped, hips jerking almost involuntarily. "_Fuck_, that's sweet. Holy _shit_, kid. Feels like fucking a generator."

Nero snarled and wrapped his legs around Dante's hips and dragged him in. It was so hot in the room, and only Dante's cock inside him felt cool. He pushed himself at it and Dante growled and pinned him down and finally gave Nero what he needed, a good hard pistoning fuck that made his eyes cross and his body sing. But he was still begging for more when Dante hissed and shuddered on him, and then sagged away, and that was terrible. "No," Nero cried, grabbing for his arms as he withdrew. "No, it's not enough, I need more!"

And infuriatingly, Dante laughed and pushed his hands off. "I'll be back, kid." Then he glanced over his shoulder. "Tag, you're it." 

And Vergil, nude now and perfect, with a look on his face that promised brutal bliss, moved into place.

"Be grateful I let him go first," his father said, before flipping him onto his belly and hauling his ass up. Nero moved with this, trying to help, making wordless sounds; God, why the hell was it so _hot_ in here? Then Vergil seared all the way into him, and Nero shouted with the delight of it. He wasted no time in setting up a rhythm that pounded Nero halfway into the mattress. Nero shut his eyes, but the world still glowed white even behind his lids.

The first attack came somewhere during the second bout with Dante, though Nero was hardly aware of it. Noise from somewhere beyond the room, a flicker of blue light, familiar song of the Yamato, once and then silence. While Dante drank his fill again -- there was no relief for Nero, just bliss when someone was physically connected to him and horrible hot emptiness when he was alone -- Vergil strolled in smelling of killing satisfaction. In a helpless reflex Nero reached for him even from the floor where he knelt beneath Dante, shaking with the force of his uncle's thrusts. He needed that, too -- the knowledge that they would fight for him, proof that they were worthy of the power that gushed into them from his body. He had never doubted them, his king, and his beast, but the light inside him demanded its due, so he blurted, "Please! Please, Father, I need you!"

Vergil circled them, a torment. Dante, panting behind Nero, grinned up at his brother. "Come on. You can keep watch with your dick in his mouth, can't you?"

Vergil smiled, flashing all his teeth. "I suppose I can," he said. Nero's mouth was already open when he stepped up and slid in.

When Dante left to patrol, Vergil hauled Nero up. "Time for you to do some of the work," he said, and rested his forearms on the dresser while Nero scrambled over and fucked him with feverish speed. Only then, when he finally managed to drag his eyes away from the beauty of Vergil's muscled back, did Nero finally notice that the skies above Mallet Island were thick with flying figures. Then a red streak like a living sword cut the air and killed them by the dozen. 

"Just vermin," Vergil said, arching back and sighing, his body radiant with the power that Nero fed him. He cupped Nero's head, and in helpless reaction Nero bit nearly through his shoulder, swallowing mouthfuls of his blood. Vergil purred at the pain. "Not a single one is worthy of you, my Nero. Don't even waste thought on them." So Nero did not.

He wasn't sure how many times each of them took him, or he took them. They came in him, on him, down his throat, on the walls or the bed. He came -- but only when they demanded it, and he felt no relief when he did. The power renewed his desire almost at once. They needed more recovery time, but that was all right. They spelled each other, Nero's lovers who had once been mortal enemies, now working together to share their family's blessing.

The only trouble came late in the night, long after Nero had lost count of the times he'd fucked and been fucked. It was Dante's turn, and as he had many times before, he shuddered and gasped with imminent release -- but Vergil wasn't back from outside. Through the balcony door, high above the island, Nero saw the enormous shadow of something that looked a bit like a flying elephant with tentacles, the size of a whale. Something blue and blazing bright as a star tore at it while both fell, but the blue thing was hampered by the tentacles. When Dante cursed and spent and flopped onto the bed, Nero snarled at him. "Sorry," Dante murmured, gasping for breath and holding up his hands. "Just -- shit. Just give me a minute, kid, please, I love fucking you, but I'm gonna die."

It was too hot. Nero moaned, burning and glowing and furious; he needed _Vergil_, goddamn it, and Vergil was taking too long. Rolling off the bed, Nero shoved open the balcony door. Blessed fresh air, cool from the sea, surrounded him.

"Shit! Nero, you know you can't go out there -- " Behind him, Nero heard Dante scramble to his feet. He ignored Dante and strode out onto the balcony. Something came at Nero from the left, a low lizardy silhouette that had somehow snuck under both Dante and Vergil's radar. Nero heard it hissing with arousal just before his glowing white fist punched it into dust.

Dante stopped, startled. Nero leapt up to stand on the railing and suddenly he was his true shape, monstrous and aglow with pure fury, and his roar alone made a dozen of the smaller, weaker figures above him shriek and fall out of the air. An instant later he was in front of Vergil, and the flying elephant thing was falling away from both of them in two rapidly-disintegrating, extremely dead, halves.

Vergil stared as Nero reverted to humanshape, though he kept his ghost-wings. "Nero, what -- " he began, an instant before Nero was on him, straddling him in midair and spreading his wings for a slow glide. Dante, who had followed them, now laughed and spread his wings too, circling away to keep the demons off them while Nero rode his father, and Vergil gasped beneath him. And it was beautiful, _magnificent_, but still not enough. When Dante swept near enough again, Nero flung his right arm and snatched him out of the air, and then pulled both his lovers around him. A quick adjustment of position and then Vergil was in him, and he was in Dante, and the blazing power of their combined ecstasy alone was enough to kill every weaker demon in a hundred-foot radius.

Vergil had been wrong. Power-ridden as he was and nearly mindless with delight, Nero had no interest in those weak, nothing creatures. Not even the few powerful demons who dared them, whose stronger bodies at least promised a moment's relief from the relentless heat of the Fountain Moon's power, tempted him. Nero killed them with lazy swipes of his Devil Bringer -- or Vergil speared them with his tail, or Dante roared fire and inadvertently sent forth half a dozen red swords to spear everything in sight, when Nero made him come again. 

This was the blessing of the Fountain Moon: the power to indulge themselves in each other no matter what threatened, and Nero would not give it up for all the world. He only wanted what he had, after all, and already had what he wanted. So then he _had_ them, oh yes, his king and his beast, until the bright white moon went down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for those of you who really wanted something more, hrrm, involuntary and juicy? I have a complicated relationship with ABO-type stuff, and the prompt effectively asked for Nero to do something like going into heat. So I had one of these reactions. (https://media.giphy.com/media/l0HlvtIPzPdt2usKs/giphy.gif) Then I thought, CHALLENGE ACCEPTED and decided to see if I could make it work despite my squinch. Which is why I've now written a three-part, multithousand word, plot-heavy thing chock full of character introspection, to explain what probably just shoulda been a 500-word PWP. 
> 
> Now, I can work with heat cycles and inhuman mating seasons... when the characters in question legitimately aren't human and don't have human biology, or human socialization. Nero is 75% average Americanish white guy, and a few years of immersion in kinky polyamory and his 25% demon heritage aren't gonna erase that. So, yeah, a mating season would feel like mind rape to him, which is why I tried to have Dante help him out by basically making it consensual. Hope this worked.
> 
> And yeah, there will be some post-processing in the last chapter. Come on, you guys know me by now.


	3. Chapter 3

There was a rocky outcropping on Mallet Island, at the far end of it away from the palace, which was topped by a single Joshua tree. When the Fountain Moon finally sank, Vergil took them all there. They were exhausted, but by mutual unspoken agreement, nobody wanted to sleep in a place where Nelo Angelo had once walked. Their clothes were still there so they would have to go back eventually, but after rest, and together, so that they could watch each others' backs.

Vergil did not tell them that Nelo Angelo had once walked on this outcropping as well. It had been his job to patrol it in those days, or at least to oversee the demons whose job that was. Mundus' influence covered only the palace; beyond that, the island was just an island, and potentially vulnerable to intruders. As Dante had proven, on the day that he'd shown up on its rocky shore.

Dante snored now, as he often did when he was really tired, lying in a naked sprawl beside the fire. He was foolishly difficult to wake at such times -- wouldn't have lasted a day of Vergil's childhood after That Day -- which meant that it would serve him right if one of the fire's embers popped out and landed on his bare skin. Vergil sat with his back up against a flat-planed rock which provided them some shelter from the wind. He was near enough to haul his brother away from the fire. He didn't bother, though. Dante had always needed to learn things the hard way.

(How angry Dante had been, and how hurt, at the start of that long-ago battle. Vergil, in the corner of himself that he'd carved free from Mundus' control, had despised him for such weakness. Mundus had meant to strike at Dante's heart, and succeeded so easily. The only reason Dante had won was because righteous anger always made him stronger... which Vergil hadn't bothered to tell Mundus. Alas.)

Nero curled beside Vergil, head pillowed on one thigh. He slept lightly enough to twitch awake every time Vergil did much more than breathe, so Vergil kept still for him. Instead Vergil memorized the pattern of short hair on his son's head, contemplated the S-curve of his spine given the awkward positioning, and savored the memory of what his skin had tasted like during their last coupling. Nero, he felt firmly, had good, reliable instincts. Had his demon not sensed, somehow, that the conjunction of the Fountain Moon would fall upon Nero? Even if its reaction to the realization had been foolish. And even if Nero had been frightened by the loss of control. He'd come through it magnificently, however, and now they were all stronger for his strength.

A beautiful boy. So powerful, his son, and so fierce. There had been no need for Nero's demon to steal the Yamato. If it had asked, Vergil would have lent it. Though he also supposed that he respected the creature for simply taking what it needed, too -- successfully, no less. Stealth and courage befitting Vergil's heir.

Vergil leaned his head back against the rock, and concentrated again on keeping watch. They'd killed most of the demons drawn by their Fountain -- Nero himself had slaughtered them by the pack, in his magnificently violent bliss -- but Vergil suspected there were still a handful of the stronger ones about. No real threat, especially now that all of them had gained new power from the Fountain Moon. Still.

He did not like to admit that he was exhausted, however. And between the crackling fire and the steady soughing of the morning wind, Vergil shut his eyes for what seemed like only a moment. When he opened them again, there was a pile of bloody hearts, no doubt taken from the very demons he'd been worried about, sitting neatly beside his legs.

He lifted his head. Nero lay where he had been. Dante had rolled even closer to the fire, snoring louder. There was a slab of liver near his head, however.

With some irritation, Vergil said, "Tell that creature inside you that if it gives me one more heart, I will use the Yamato to separate it from your human component, and then beat it senseless."

"Is apology," said the voice of Nero's demon, speaking through Nero, still from Vergil's knee.

"You already apologized. This is overkill, and beneath one with the strength to rule demonkind." Then, relenting at last, Vergil sighed and rested a hand on Nero's hair. "You've survived. That's all the sanction you need -- from me or anyone else. Apology accepted, if only so you will cease this ridiculous groveling. Though if you take the Yamato again without permission, I'll beat you _and_ rip your wings off."

Nero wriggled, happily, in a completely un-Nero-ish way. Vergil shook his head, amused despite himself. "Send him back to me, now, and rest."

"'Kay," said the demon. A moment later, in Nero's voice: "I _was_ watching, that time."

"You need rest, too."

In completely predictable contrary response, Nero sighed and rolled over to face Vergil. He did look tired, but there was a smile on his lips. "You need it more. I was, uh, lying down for a lot of that."

"Channeling the power of the Fountain Moon was work in itself," Vergil said. He'd felt Nero doing what he could to regulate the energy, not giving too much to either of his lovers during each bout so they would be able to take more later. _How_ he'd done it, however, Vergil didn't know -- it should not have been possible with that volume of power. Remarkable boy. Vergil stroked the backs of his fingers down one of Nero's cheeks, then slid his hand down to rest it proprietarily on Nero's chest, right over his heart. It was a dominance gesture among demons -- a demand for trust as well as submission -- but Nero had always seemed to genuinely enjoy it. Even now he sighed in pleasure and shifted a little onto his back, making himself even more vulnerable should Vergil decide to rip his chest open. When Vergil did not, Nero took his hand and splayed it out over his heart, watching him the whole time. An explicit offer. And -- oh. There was faint glimmer of gold around the rims of Nero's silver irises.

He must have frowned. A moment later Nero curled up, half sliding into Vergil's lap, to nuzzle at his jaw. "We've been talking about love," said... Nero? Very faint doubling of his voice. Ah, yes, _we_. "That's why we got stupid about bringing you the Jormungandr heart. Love is keeping safe. Love is taking care." Nero's voice alone now, and wry. "That's about as far as we usually get before the big guy starts arguing that love doesn't mean anything to demons and why can't it just kill you something nice."

And thus it had, first chance it got. Vergil shook his head. "The heart and liver _were_ useful," he admitted. The new strength of the Fountain Moon had done much to sustain him through the grueling, exhilarating night of battle and sex, but sustenance rich with power had helped a great deal, too.

Nero groaned. "Don't say things like that. You just said you didn't want more hearts." He yawned, but then relaxed against Vergil, getting comfortable. It would be awkward to defend against an attack with him draped like this, but Vergil tolerated it. Nero's weight was pleasant, against him. "I just wish I knew why shit like this keeps happening to me. Turning into a demon lord, becoming a fountain... Jesus, I'm only, like, a little bit demony. I mean, obviously demon genetics don't make any fucking sense, but still."

"Demons evolve as they mature, to suit their environment and needs," Vergil said. "You fought the equivalent of a lord-order demon as an adolescent, and an actual demon king more recently." He considered a moment. "And now that I know your inner demon better, there's an additional possibility that it's overcompensating for you being predominantly human."

Nero went very still. "I'm gonna fucking _kill_ it," he snarled suddenly. All him, now, and pure lethal fury in his voice. The demon had probably fled into his innermost psyche somewhere.

Vergil stifled a smile and stroked Nero's hip to soothe him. "Power is good," he said. "Power keeps you safe."

Nero grumbled, but settled at last. "'No bird flies too high if he soars with his own wings,' huh? Still gonna kick that thing's ass, though. Next time I dream of it, I swear."

Surprised, Vergil said, "You've been reading the Blake book."

"Yeah. You gave it to me, didn't you?" Nero sighed and nuzzled him again -- and then nipped him, very gently, along the edge of the jaw. Hmm. "It was nice."

Vergil cupped his face and kissed him lightly. Perfect, marvelous boy. "'It is easier to forgive an enemy than to forgive a friend.'"

Nero rolled his eyes. "'You never know what is enough unless you know what is more than enough.' C'mon, you and Dante both told me to get my demon in line."

"True." Vergil wasn't sure that would ever be possible, however, now that he understood the complexity of the situation. He had never heard of a demon lord falling in love... except Sparda. Hmm. It helped to think that perhaps Nero's demon was just following, very clumsily, in his grandfather's footsteps. "Do try to remember that our demons want what is best for us."

And Vergil wanted more of Nero right now. He sought it inside the boy's mouth, delving deeply and thoroughly enough that after a moment Nero made a soft hungry sound and moved against him in a way that let Vergil know the Fountain Moon hadn't exhausted him all that much. Vergil pulled free to say, "Haven't you had enough?"

Nero smirked. "Hey, I'm not the one getting turned on by poetry."

It was too late to deny that he was. So be it; Vergil decided to roll with the truth, and he rolled them both to put Nero under him. They were both naked on the bare, rocky ground, but demon skin was not so tender as that, and desire did a lot to obscure such minor nuisances. Vergil nudged Nero's chin, and the boy bent his head back to bare his throat so eagerly that his own demon stirred for a moment. _The young lord offers himself to your might. We must take him, of course._

Vergil heartily concurred. "'Those who restrain desire do so because theirs is weak enough to be restrained,'" he said, in between nipping Nero's throat and collarbones. He had Nero's cock in his hand, too, exquisitely hard and silken against his stroking fingers. The Fountain Moon had kept Nero in a state all night, only allowing him quick, ineffectual release; little wonder he was so hungry now.

"Yeah, okay, whatever," Nero murmured, wrapping legs around Vergil's hips, and Vergil chuckled at his rapid dissolution.

He decided to be gentle, since hours of mounting without the aid of lube had left the boy sore; even their demonic physiology had a limit. Nero would not bear frotting alone, however, insisting on having Vergil inside him again, so Vergil kept it slow until the boy stopped gritting his teeth. Then too, Vergil was still tired, so he rocked them together steadily, quietly, his breath a metronome. After the night's frenzy, it was good -- very good -- to feel in control again. It was also clear that the event had left both of them a new appreciation for calm, measured pleasure, _despite_ Nero's soft curses and frustration when Vergil made him wait for his own satisfaction first. Once Vergil had shuddered his release into Nero's body, he withdrew and took the boy's practically-quivering cock into his mouth, as he'd yearned to do all night. Nero's broken-voiced cries and fingers frantically tangling in his hair were his reward -- that, and the fact that the boy lasted barely five seconds before he bucked and came so hard that he forgot to breathe for a bit. Fortunately, they were demons. Air was overrated.

And while Nero lay twitching with aftershocks, Vergil bent to murmur right against his ear. "'Love seeketh not itself to please, nor for itself hath any care, but for another gives its ease, and builds a Heaven in Hell's despair.'"

Nero jerked a little, turning to stare at him; for just a moment his eyes went completely yellow, and slit-pupilled. His smile was far too delighted and sweet to be completely his own, but then the demon receded. Now there was nothing but Nero, and yet the smile lingered -- calmer, more reserved, but with that same quintessential sweetness. Such a strange demon child.

But Vergil was well-pleased with him, strange or not, and so he drew Nero close and set his face against the boy's hair. Any demons foolish enough to ambush them would die; he was too tired to be forgiving at this point. Hopefully, however, Nero's demon had taken care of any real threats. He would trust the foolish creature, this time. What else was love good for, after all?

They slept, safe and stronger and satisfied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to Goodreads, which had a great page of Blake's quotes. I honestly wasn't familiar with Blake before DMC5, and I find that I like him now that I read more of his work and research his background. He was anti-slavery, anti-religious corruption, and quite the rebel for a poncy 18th-Century Brit. Very fitting for Vergil/V. And they say you learn nothing from games!
> 
> Anyway, I've belatedly realized this whole arc was about Nero's silly demon falling in love with "his king and his beast," where before it was just lust. As I've said before, I don't think Nero's demon is actually stupid, just very young. As Dante's demon was nourished on his bitterness and loneliness and the threat of Mundus, and Vergil's on his desperate need to survive and find security, Nero's poor demon is surrounded by romantic human nonsense, and, well... it's doing its best. Vergil finally figures that out at the end.
> 
> Anyway, once again, way too many words for what should've been a PWP, but _this_, at last, feels like a proper ending to the Family Affair saga...
> 
> (She says cautiously.)
> 
> (She says while darting worried looks around, fearful of an ambush by her bitchass muse.)
> 
> ...Hope you enjoyed it. I'm gonna go hide, now, byeeeee!


End file.
